


Want It So Bad

by wildfrancium



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Male Solo, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 16:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildfrancium/pseuds/wildfrancium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael Jones having some fun with himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want It So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this for a friend in like half an hour, but I think it turned out great. So enjoy! (The idea came from that fucking Rage Zip photo.)

Michael Jones was a cocky piece of shit. He'd stand there chewing on his bottom lip and that moment of hesitation would instantly turn into a seductive grin with evil intent. He'd lower his eyes and keep smiling, fingers toying with his zipper. He'd take his other hand and rub his palm against the bulge in his jeans. He'd act all pornographic about it. Letting his eyes flutter shut and his breath hitch as he grabbed at his cock through his pants.   
Michael would lean back against the wall popping the button and drawing the zipper down bit by bit. He'd stick his tongue out between his teeth in concentration pushing his pants and boxers down. Teasing was only so fun.   
He'd run his hand over his stomach before taking hold of his cock. Michael would grin again running his hand over the shaft. He kept a slow, even pace trying not to rock his hips. When he finally ran his thumb over the slit he'd finally let out a low groan of satisfaction. His fingers would circle the head smearing precum every time they ran over the slit. He'd be lost in concentration biting at his lips and breathing faster. His face would be flushed and he'd lean his head back against the wall getting lost in the sensation.   
His other hand would grab his balls rolling them in his hand as he jerked his other hand back along the shaft. His breathing would get heavier and he'd stare up at the ceiling pupils blown and eyes threatening to shut. He'd grip his balls tighter and left his blunt nails gently rake across the delicate skin on the underside of his cock. They'd find the vein and press against it making Michael arch back biting the inside of his check forcing himself not to be too loud.   
He'd go back to toying with the head. He'd press his thumb to the slit relishing in the sensation that flooded through his. His brain felt fuzzy and his whole body was tense waiting to come.   
That's when he'd get rough. His grip would get tighter and his strokes were faster and frenzied. Michael would grunt and groan reaching a hand up to tug at his hair. He'd drag his hand down over his neck pushing slightly against his windpipe and finally sinking lower. He'd pull up his shirt pinching his nipples and digging his nails into his chest.   
He'd go back to pulling his hair, eyes shut, lips open and panting. His tongue would poke out to lick over parched lips. His nails dug into his scalp as his other hand worked his cock over. He bucked his hips to thrust into the tight hold his hand hand.   
Michael would pull his hand over his neck again wishing there was someone else there. Someone to manhandle him and bite at his pale skin. Someone to force him to not come until he was begging for it. Someone to work him over, pull his hair, make him moan.   
He would groan loud at the thought feeling everything in him tense up as he pushed himself to the edge. Hand on his neck and hand on his cock, he'd look back up at the ceiling swallowing hard and dragging his hand down his chest.   
With a choked out gasp he'd stroke himself into an orgasm. His toes would curl as he arched back fingers scraping against the wall for purchase and finding none. He'd keep stroking letting his hot come spill out over his hand and slick up his arching cock.   
When he was finished and boneless against the wall he'd push his shirt out of the way and wipe his hand on his flat stomach. He'd drop to his knees, breathing hard and heavy, curls slightly damp with sweat. He felt blissed out and weightless. He'd hang his head sucking in air, running his tongue over his perfect swollen lips.   
And then he'd look up and fucking smirk.


End file.
